


Touch Starved

by Starofwinter



Series: Adjacent Verse [36]
Category: Star Wars: Rebellion Era - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Cuddling & Snuggling, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Multi, Touch-Starved
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-14
Updated: 2019-08-14
Packaged: 2020-08-23 05:41:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 414
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20237668
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Starofwinter/pseuds/Starofwinter
Summary: Rex only takes his armor off for Ahsoka and Wolffe.  Sometimes, it's just too long.





	Touch Starved

It’s the first minute they’ve gotten to themselves in a long time, and Ahsoka can’t help herself as she reaches out to start unfastening Rex’s armor. The plastoid is freshly painted and polished - he’d complained about looking like a shiny again even though he’s a kriffing general, but he knew the importance of a symbol, and the blue jaig eyes on a bright white background stand out in the field.

Wolffe is finishing the last bit of a report to Mon Mothma, and Rex’s hitched breath and the way he startles at Ahsoka’s touch are loud in the quiet. She hesitates before setting the chestplate aside to wrap her arms around him, taking his weight as he sags into her. “Wolffe,” she says softly, “We need you.” 

He drops everything, crossing the room. “Rex,” he breathes, “Ka’ra.” Rex shudders in their arms, and he doesn’t stop as they carefully pull away to finish removing his armor. By the time they have the last pieces off and climb onto the bed to hold him between them again, his breath is coming fast and harsh. “Breathe for me.” 

Ahsoka’s hand presses to Rex’s chest, over the scar they all know is there. “Follow me.” Her voice is soft and warm, a contrast to Wolffe’s rougher, lower voice murmuring endearments and reassurances against his neck. Rex nods, and eventually, his breathing evens out, and the slight tremors ease. 

“Sorry,” he whispers into Wolffe’s shoulder, “Just- don’t know what came over me. I missed you. Been too long since anybody-” 

“You left your armor on too long, you stubborn di’kut, that’s what happened,” Wolffe grumbles, “Just like you used to.” They all know Rex’s long habit of holding himself away from everyone else, trying to be some mythical officer so no one doubts him, but  _ kriff _ , he’s more experienced in leading than most of the beings they’re leading into battle. It’s not the same war they fought before, young and inexperienced and scared as nine hells.

“Rexer.” Now Ahsoka’s getting involved, that tone she’d picked up from Kenobi, and Rex huffs a shaky little laugh.

“Alright, alright, if I tell you it won’t happen again, will you believe me?”

Wolffe tugs a lock of bright blond hair. “No, ‘cause you’re a bad liar.”

Ahsoka just kisses his cheek instead. “Come home to us more often,” she says, and Rex’s arms tighten around them, “We miss you.”

“I’m here,” he says, and for now, that’s all they can ask.


End file.
